


The Monsters Under the Bed

by tealpaperclip27



Series: Before [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Growing Up, Imaginary monsters, Pre series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 16:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealpaperclip27/pseuds/tealpaperclip27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean liked to wear a bath towel tied around his neck like a cape. He was a superhero, like Batman, that’s what he told anyone who dared to ask why he a blue and red striped towel around his neck. His father would roll his eyes and his mother would shrug and say at least he had an active imagination; a little boy with an imagination like that was never bored. Dean fought against all kinds of criminals: like the dog next door that barked all the time and his arch nemesis-- the little girl that lived down the street that made him wear a fake pearl necklace and have tea parties with her when Mary left him at her house when she ran errands.</p><p>--<br/>Dean's 3 and scared of the monster that lives under his bed. Mary works with him to show him how to protect himself.<br/>This story also goes a little bit into John and Dean's relationship before the fire, this story took a turn I wasn't expecting when I started writing it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just want anyone reading this to know that I'm working on the next chapter, I'm just doing GISHWHES so writing time is limited. I will update when it's over.

Dean liked to wear a bath towel tied around his neck like a cape. He was a superhero, like Batman, that’s what he told anyone who dared to ask why he a blue and red striped towel around his neck. His father would roll his eyes and his mother would shrug and say at least he had an active imagination; a little boy with an imagination like that was never bored. Dean fought against all kinds of criminals: like the dog next door that barked all the time and his arch nemesis-- the little girl that lived down the street that made him wear a fake pearl necklace and have tea parties with her when Mary left him at her house when she ran errands. He saved his damsel in distress, most often his mom, from the dangers of living-- like mud puddles and people not paying attention while they pushed their shopping carts around stores.

xxx

“Don’t stand on the couch, Dean,” Mary called from the kitchen,watching as her little boy battled invisible foes with a plastic sword in their living room.

“I’m fighting the monster!” Dean called from the other room.

“You’re very brave, Dean,” Mary laughed. “Just do it from the floor, okay.” 

“Okay, Momma,” Dean answered, jumping down and stabbing at air. “I think I can get to monster to go back in it’s cave. But I might have to climb on the chair just for one minute.”

“Stay on the floor sweetie,” Mary told him. “I don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself. You won’t be very good at fighting monsters if you have a broken arm, will ya?”

“No,” Dean conceded. “I guess not.” 

“ When you’re done, do you think you’ve worked up enough of an appetite for a snack?”

“Pie?” Dean asked eyes wide as he turned to her. “I knowed you maked pie yesterday. I sawed it.”

“I can get you a piece of pie after you get the monster back in it’s cave.”

“Monster said that it can wait until after pie,” Dean answered, dropping his sword and running toward the kitchen, his cape flowing behind him as he ran.

“That’s very nice of him,” Mary laughed as Dean climbed up into a kitchen chair.

“It’s not a real monster,” Dean whispered as his mom place a plate in front of him. “Just a fake one. I’m only practicing for just in case. You never know when a monster is gonna show up.”

“That’s very true, sweetheart,” Mary answered running her fingers through the boy’s hair.

“I will be better at fighting the monster after pie,” Dean explained. “I get extra strength Like Popeye.”

“He eats spinach,” Mary replied.

“Yeah, but that’s gross,” Dean told her. “Pie not gross.”

“Alright,” Mary laughed. 

He could be a handful, like any three year old could, but at least there was never a dull moment in Winchester house.

xxx

Dean was very brave, but even superheroes have have weaknesses, and for Super Dean, his kryptonite were the monsters that lived under his bed. He spent hours practicing fighting those monsters in the living room in the daytime, but the moment the sun went down all the bravery seemed to disappear along with it. No amount of practice prepared Dean for the horror that waited for him inches below where he slept. 

Mary figured it was normal, he didn’t know that there _were_ things that went bump in the night. All little kids were scared of the things under their bed. She’d made sure that her family was never in danger, hidden hex bags and sigils where no one would find them unless they were looking. There was nothing there, but no matter how many times he was told, it never comforted Dean. 

Usually, his dad would check when he tucked him in. But that night John wasn’t there, working late at the shop, and Dean’s night light and the Christmas lights hanging in the window were casting extra scary shadows across his walls; so Dean waited until he heard the door to his parents’ room close, so he didn’t get in trouble for being out of bed, and crawled slowly out from under the covers. He crept over to his toy box where he kept his sword, then tiptoed back to the bed. He laid down and lifted the bed skirt, sure that there wouldn’t be anything under there, his dad had checked the night before, but staring back was one very large, angry looking monster. 

It had big yellow teeth that showed when it growled at him when he met it’s giant red eyes. Dean dropped the bed skirt and ran out of his room as fast as his little legs would carry him; right into his parents’ bedroom.

Mary lay reading a novel hand absentmindedly rubbing what was quickly becoming a large baby bump she was going to have to explain to Dean soon when pushed the door open. The light from the hallway silhouetted a little body resting a sword over his shoulder. 

“What is it sweetheart?” Mary yawned. 

“It’s back!” Dean whispered, eyes wide with fear.

“What’s back Dean-o?” Mary asked, motioning for her little boy to come over to her. 

“The monster!” Dean explained, trying to climb onto his parents big bed. “The big monster under my bed. I telled Daddy about it and he got rid of it one time. But I knowed it was gonna come back. And you didn’t check when you tucked me in, so I did just to make sure. And it was there.”

“What are we gonna do about it?” Mary asked pulling him into her lap. “Cuz it’s way past bedtime.”

“I dunno,” Dean answered. “I cannot sleep in there. _Too_ scary. What if it comes out and it eated you?”

“We can’t have that now can we?” Mary smiled.

“I don’t want you to be eated,” Dean said seriously. 

“I thought you were a brave little superhero,” Mary teased. “Not scared of nothing.”

“You didn’t see it’s teeth, Momma,” Dean explained, holding his hands to his face to demonstrate how big they were. “Big teeth.”

“What if I showed you how to keep the monster from getting you?” Mary asked running her fingers through Dean’s hair. “We’ll set your room up so that all your toys can protect you from the monsters.”

“I would like that,” Dean yawned, laying his sword down beside him. “But I am very tired. I should sleep here until Daddy comes home. I protect you from the monster.”

“Alright, Angel,” Mary said. “But you gotta go to sleep, okay.”

“I promise, Momma,” Dean yawned.

xxx

Dean woke up alone in his parents’ bed to the smell of bacon. “Breakfast,” he smiled to himself sliding off the large bed with his sword and running down the hallway. He wanted to slide down the stairs, it was the fastest way down, but he knew how much his mom didn’t like it when he did that, so he grabbed the railing and made his way down.

“Good morning sleepy-head,” Mary smiled as she stirred some eggs in a large bowl. “You ready for breakfast?”

Dean nodded and climbed into on the kitchen chairs, sitting on his knees so he could reach the table. “Always ready for breakfast.” 

“What are we gonna do about this monster problem?” Mary asked as she poured eggs into a skillet for scrabbling. “Cuz we can’t have you sleeping in my bed all the time. You’re too big for that.”

“I dunno, Momma,” Dean shrugged. “But I’m not gonna sleep there ‘til the monster’s all gone. I don’t want it to eat me. I don’t want to be eated. If I get eated, how am I gonna keep you from gettin’ eated?”

“I know, Dean,” Mary nodded seriously. “I think I might know a way to keep the monsters away. But I’m gonna need your help.”

“Okay,” Dean replied. “That monsters not there in the daytime, only the nighttime. So it’s safe in my room.”

“Eat up, big guy,” Mary told him, setting down his breakfast. “You’re gonna need all your strength for this one.”

“I gotta be big and strong like Daddy?” Dean asked mouth full of eggs and bacon.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Mary instructed. 

Dean nodded and continued to shovel eggs and bacon into his mouth as his mother joined him. 

“How does you knowed how to keep the monsters away?” Dean asked after swallowing, reaching across the table to grab his orange juice.

“When I was little,” Mary explained. “My Daddy taught me.”

“Oh,” Dean nodded. “Does my Daddy knowed how keep the monsters away?”

“Not as well as _my_ Daddy,” Mary smiled. “But your Daddy does the best he can.”

“How come you didn’t take care of the monster to start with?” Dean accused. “This monster problem is a big deal.”

“I know kiddo,” Mary answered. “Daddy said he took care of it. We didn’t think it would come back.”

“Well, it did,” Dean huffed, eyebrows pressed together. “I coulda been eated.”

“I know sweetheart,” Mary nodded solemnly. “We’re very sorry.”

“You better be,” Dean pouted. “I would be very mad if I got eated and then found out you knowed how to get rid of the monster the whole time.”

“Do you need to go to timeout for your attitude?” Mary asked. “Cuz that sounds like you’re talking back.”

“No,” Dean mumbled picking up his fork again and finishing his breakfast in silence.

xxx

Mary met Dean in his bedroom after he washed up from breakfast and had gotten himself dressed. He sat on his bed, legs swinging off the edge, sword on his left side, towel tied around his neck. 

“Are you ready?” Mary asked clapping her hands together.

“Uh huh,” Dean nodded.

“Alright then,” Mary nodded surveying the room. She wanted to make this seem as real as possible. She knew how scared Dean was of that thing under his bed, whether it was a figment of his imagination or not, he was scared and she had to help him get over it. She looked to find some of the toys that Dean didn’t play with as much anymore, stuffed animals and such, tried to figure out the best way to arrange them for maximum protection.

“What we gotta do?” Dean asked, chewing the inside of his mouth. 

“I’m not sure yet,” Mary answered looking over the room a second time. “We gotta have someone to look over your bed when you’re not here. Who can we trust with that?”

“Batman,” Dean said forcefully. 

“Alright,” Mary smiled. “Where is Batman right now?”

“In the toy box,” Dean replied. “That’s where you said to put my toys when I’m not playin’ with them.” 

“Right,” Mary nodded, turning to the toy box. Inside were most of Dean’s action figures, matchbox cars, and trucks; exactly what Mary needed to make Dean’s room monster under the bed proof. 

“Is this how grandpa fighted monsters?” Dean asked as he watched his mother dig through his toy box.

“Kind of,” Mary answered. “Some of the monsters he fought were much bigger.”

She turned back to see Dean’s eyes widen, and his finger tighten around the handle of his sword. 

“You don’t gotta worry about those monsters, Dean-o,” Mary explained. “They’re all gone now.” 

“You’re _sure_?” Dean asked tentatively. “Gone like the one under my bed? Or gone for _real_?”

“They aren’t coming back,” Mary answered with certainty. “Once we get rid of the one under your bed, you won’t have to worry about any other monsters, alright?”

“Okay,” Dean nodded skeptically. “As long as you’re sure. But what if the monster under my bed had a mommy and daddy, and they come looking for him?”

“That’s a very good point,” Mary conceded. “That’s why we’re going to do everything we can to make sure the monster under your bed just leaves and goes home.”

“What if he goes under someone else’s bed?” Dean asked. “I don’t want no one else to have a scary monster under their bed.”

“Dean,” Mary walked over and sat down next to him, placed a hand on his head. “You gotta trust me okay. We’re gonna get rid of this thing. Me and you. And after that, the monster isn’t going to bother anyone else.”

Dean nodded and looked up at her through his lashes. 

“Okay Momma,” he nodded. 

“You ready to get rid of this thing?” Mary smiled, standing up and going back to the toy box. She pulled out a couple GI Joes and well loved Batman figurine. “Alright, so, we gotta make it so that Batman and GI Joe are always watching under your bed.”

Dean nodded with his whole body as he pushed himself off the bed. 

“We gots to make it so that when monster comes over, that GI Joe sees him,” Dean decided. “Cuz he doesn’t just appear under my bed. He has to come in the house from outside.”

“Alright,” Mary replied.

“I don’t think grown ups can see the monster,” Dean said, pushing his eyebrows together in thought. 

“Then what are we gonna do?” Mary asked. 

“I’m gonna check under the bed,” Dean answered. “Just to be safe. Even though everyone knows under bed monsters aren’t out in the day time.”

“Okay,” Mary shook her head as she watched Dean lay flat on the floor and lift the bed skirt. 

“There’s a _crocodile_ under here,” Dean announced, half his body disappearing under the bed for a moment before reappearing holding a stuffed crocodile John had won out of a claw machine at store. “I been lookin’ for this.”

“Do you think that could be the monster?” Mary asked, hoping that maybe this would be the end of the monster problem.

“No,” Dean said sternly. “The monster if very big, and yellow, and have big teeth. This is too little. We can use this though. Crocodiles are very scary too.”

“Where do you want to put the crocodile?” Mary asked. 

“On the table!” Dean smiled placing the stuffed toy on his bedside table. “We can put Batman by the window!” 

Mary followed Dean’s instructions, this was a way to get Dean to sleep in his own bed, keep him from being afraid. “Where should be put GI Joe?”

“Umm...” Dean looked around the room for a place to put the next protector. “On the shelf.”

“Good choice,” Mary said walking across the room and placing the action figure on the shelf next to the closet where Dean’s baby book and pictures of him as a newborn were perched. “Do you think this will be enough?”

Dean shook his head, walking over the toybox to see what else he has in there. He pulled out a second Batman and Robin. 

“We can put these up with GI Joe?” Dean asked. “Just to be safe.”

“Of course,” Mary smiled taking the toys from her son. “How’s that?”

“Can we put my stuffed animals around my bed?” Dean asked. “So that the monster can’t get in without movin’ them?”

“Alright,” Mary nodded. “Got get them.”

Dean pulled a laundry basket full of stuff animals from his closet. The two placed them all against the bottom of Dean’s bed. 

“That’s good I think,” Dean smiled. “I like it. I don’t think the monster will be able to get in the room with all these people watching. We will find out tonight when I go to bed.”

“Okay,” Mary smiled pulling Dean close to her side. “You wanna go play down stairs?”

“Can we play in the snow?” Dean asked looking up. “I want to build a snowman, with a carrot nose.”

“Go get your snowsuit and mittens,” Mary replied. “And we’ll play in the snow. You can’t wear your cape outside in the snow though.”

“Okay, momma,” Dean said excitedly. He untied this cape and left it on his bed before running off.”

xxx

“Bedtime,” John announced at seven thirty that night. “You ready for your bath?”

“Mmhmm,” Dean nodded pushing himself up, and running up the stairs. “Let’s go, Daddy.”

“I’m coming,” John sighed. “I’ve never met a kid excited for bath time.”

“Likes to pretend,” Mary shrugged, grabbing her book from the side table. “He can be a ship captain in the bathtub.” 

“He’s a weird one,” John chuckled.

“He’s three,” Mary answered, finding her page. “And if you don’t get up there, an angry, naked three year old is going to run down our stairs.”

After bath time came storytime. Dean grabbed his favorite book of fairy tales off the shelf in his room and presented it to his father in the hallway. 

“I want you to read the mermaid,” Dean said. “I like that one the most.”

“We read the mermaid one the other night,” John replied. 

“Yeah and yesterday Momma told me a story she maked up,” Dean explained. “I wanna hear the mermaid story.”

“Right,” John nodded and followed the little boy into his room. “I’ll read the mermaid story, then it’s good night time.” 

“I know,” Dean nodded, after climbing into bed. “Go right to sleep after Momma says goodnight.”

“Why are all your toys out?” John asked looking around the room. “You’re supposed to put them away when you’re done.”

“There protecting me from the monster,” Dean said quickly. “You said you got rid of it, but it came back.”

“There’s no monster, Dean,” John sighed.

“Yeah-huh,” Dean nodded. “I sawed it.”

“Clean up your room,” John told his son. “Then I’ll read you the story.”

“No!” Dean yelled. “It’s protection!”

“Do not speak to me like that,” John demanded. “There’s no monster. So put your toys away like you’re supposed to.”

Dean shook his head back and forth. 

“Dean!” John groaned. “You gotta learn to listen.”

“No,” Dean whined. “ _You_ listen. I can’t put them away. The monster will get me.”

“What’s going on?” Mary asked from the doorway, the commotion was too much to ignore. 

“This mess,” John said pointing into the room. 

“It’s protection from the monster under his bed,” Mary stated. 

“ _Really_?” John sighed. “You encouraged this? We’ve talked about this, and him making things up. I thought you were on my side here.”

“I’m not fighting with you in front of Dean,” Mary said crossing his arms over her chest. “Tuck him in, kiss him goodnight. We’ll talk about it in our room.”  
John rolled his eyes and pushed past her into the hallway without saying goodnight to little boy.

“Good night, Dean,” Mary whispered, pushing his hair out of his face and kissing him on the forehead. “Angels are watching over you.”

“I don’t want Daddy to be mad at me,” Dean mumbled. 

“I’ll fix it, alright,” Mary promised. “You just go to bed, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” Dean smiled weakly. 

Mary kissed him on the forehead again before turning and heading into the hallway.

“He’s suppose to put his toys away,” John whispered harshly before Mary had a chance to close the door. 

“And he did,” Mary said, securing the door behind her. “The ones he played with. We set up his room so the the monster couldn’t get back under his bed.”

“Why are you letting a three year old call the shots?”

“He’s scared,” Mary answered. “He’s _terrified_ of that thing. Whether its a balled up sweatshirt or toy that got shoved under there or just his imagination, he’s scared of it. And I’m not going to look a terrified little boy in the face and tell him it’s not real. It’s real to him. That’s all that matters.”

“It’s stupid,” John sighed. “You can’t just do whatever he says. I played along once, told him it wasn’t there. That should have been enough.”

“You weren’t there last night when he came into our room nearly in tears because he thought something was going to eat him in his sleep. It’s real to him. He has a very active imagination. I’m not going to tell him to stop playing pretend. That’s what little kids are gonna do. If he’s ten and still scared of the thing under his bed we’ll talk about there being a problem. He’s three years old, John.”

“Old enough to learn,” John voice raising as he shook his head. “Old enough to start acting like a big kid now. He’s going to start school in a couple years. A big brother is a few months. He can’t be a little baby afraid of monsters wearing a towel around his neck. What if he tries to rescue the baby and something happens?”

“He’s not gonna hurt the baby, John,” Mary sighed. “We’ll teach him what to do, how to handle the baby.”

“He punched the little kid next door,” John sighed crossing his arm.

“Karen saw the whole thing,” Mary retorted. “It was an _accident_.”

“An accident from this stupid superhero shit that you encourage.” John yelled. “He needs to grow up.”

Caught up in the argument, neither of them noticed the door to their right opening, or the little blonde boy in the Superman pajamas staring up at them with tears in his eyes.

“Don’t yell,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Dean,” Mary sighed, leaning down to pick him up. 

“I’ll be a big boy if you don’t yell,” Dean said, muffled by his mother’s nightshirt. “I put all my toys away. Except the ones on the shelf cuz I can’t reach it.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Mary sighed.

“I didn’t want you to yell,” Dean replied. “I don’t like it.”

“What about the monster?” Mary asked. “Are you gonna be alright to sleep?”

“I don’t know,” Dean pouted. “I just don’t want you and daddy to yell at me.”

“We aren’t yelling at you, Angel,” Mary shot daggers across the hallway toward her husband. As much as she loved him, she couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t let her be the parent she wanted. She wanted to be better than their parents. She didn’t want Dean to grow up to hate the way he grew up. She just didn’t see why John wouldn’t listen to her.

“You’re yelling about me,” Dean answered. “I don’t want you to be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” Mary promised kissing him on the top of the end. “We’re not mad at you.”

“You promise?” Dean said leaning back so he could look into his mother’s eyes. 

“Cross my heart,” Mary nodded. “Do you want to set your stuffed animals back up or are you going to be okay?”

Dean looked at his father over Mary’s shoulder. “I don’t know. I’m still scared but I don’t want Daddy to be mad at me.”

Mary spun around to look at her husband. She mouthed “Tell him it’s okay.”

“It’s fine, Dean,” John sighed giving in. “Do what you gotta do.”

“I can have my toys out?” Dean asked softly.

“Just for _monster protection_.” John said rolling his eyes. 

“Okay,” Dean nodded. “You can put me down.”

Mary did as he requested and the little boy went back into his room.

“Why don’t you help him set his room back up?” Mary said, a cold glare in her eyes. “So that he knows you’re not mad at him.”

John sighed loudly and followed Dean.

“What do you need me to do?” John said shaking his head. 

Dean pulled his tub of stuffed animals back out.

“The bears,” Dean explained. “Go around the bottom of the bed, and then the crocodile goes on the little table. But I gotta check under the bed first. Grown ups can’t see the monster.”

“Okay,” John set up the bears as Dean instructed while Dean laid on the ground and lifted the bed skirt.

“All clear,” he nodded, smiling slightly. Dean dove into his toy box, pulling out the action figures that sat on his window sill and put them back. 

“Is this how you had it?” John asked when the bears were back around the bottom of the bed.

“Thank you,” Dean mumbled nodding. “Will you still read me the mermaid story?”

“Tomorrow,” John grumbled. “It’s gettin’ really late for you.”

“I’m sorry I’m scared,” Dean pouted climbing back into bed and under the covers. “The monster is really scary.”

“There’s no such thing,” John said standing up over the bed. “There’s nothing under there and there is nothing in your closet. There aren’t monsters.”

“John,” Mary sighed from the hallway. 

“Good night, Dean,” John said before heading out of the room. Mary stalked across the hall to the master bedroom, John close behind her.

“Don’t talk to him like that _ever_ again,” Mary hissed, finger in his face.

“He has to --”

“If you say ‘grow up’ I will punch you,” Mary continued. “Do you remember being a little kid? Because I remember. I remember running around pretending to be an astronaut and an airplane pilot on my parents’ sofa. And I remember my dad telling me to stop being such a dreamer and live in the real world. And I _hated_ him for it. He’s been dead for almost ten years, and I still hate him for it. I don’t want our kids to grow up to hate you. So let him be a superhero and wear his silly towel around his neck. Let him fight the monster under his bed his way. He’ll grow out of it eventually.”

“When he starts school --” John said shaking his head.

“When he starts school,” Mary said over him. “We’ll tell him that he can only be a superhero at home. That the towel stays at home. We’ll tell him that he can be Batman all he wants at home, but he has to be Bruce Wayne at school. He’ll be mad, but he’ll get over it. Maybe when the new baby comes, he’ll decide he needs to be a big boy. I read that getting a younger sibling makes the older ones feel important, like a grown up.” 

“His little friend across the street didn’t become grow up overnight when they brought home their younger one.”

“That’s totally different. Jamie was eighteen months old when Brandon came home,” Mary, pulling the sheets down on the bed. “He wasn’t even a real person yet. Dean’ll be four when the we bring home the baby.”

Mary grabbed pillows off the side of the bed closer to John and threw them at him.

“Seriously?” John shook his head.

“Couch looks pretty comfortable,” Mary said between tightly clenched teeth. “And honestly, I can’t stand the look of you. And God forbid that little boy has a nightmare and runs in here. Who knows what you’ll say to him. Tomorrow, since you’re _not_ going into work on the weekend. You’re going to sit down with him. And you’re gonna be his Robin the day. You’re gonna play with your son and let him know it’s okay. That he’s not doing anything wrong.”

“Mary, we need the money,” John shook his head. “I said I would. Someone’s gotta supervise.”

“You own the stupid thing right?” Mary argued. “Call Ricky in the morning and tell him your wife is giant bitch that wants you to spend time with your kid. I’m going to bed. Get out.”

John rolled his eyes and walked out of the room with his pillows.


	2. Chapter 2

“Daddy’s here for breakfast!” Dean exclaimed excitedly, climbing up into his usual chair the next morning.

“How’d you sleep?” John asked.

“Pretty good,” Dean nodded. “No monsters. We got it figured out real good, me and Mommy. She’s very smart about monsters.”

“That’s good,” John sighed. “When do you think it’ll be okay to put everything back in order?”

“Really?” Mary sighed placing a plate of French Toast and sausage in front of Dean, next to his orange juice. 

“What?” John shrugged. 

“Not ready,” Dean said shaking his head, mouth full of food, “The monster might come back if it thinks I got comfortable. I have to make sure it’s gone. Then the teddy bear army can go back to the closet at night time.”

“Dean,” Mary said seriously. “Remember what I said about talking with you mouth full?”

Dean nodded, leaning across the table for his juice. “Sorry, Momma.”

“We seem to have this talk every time you eat,” Mary said sitting down with her own plate. “You gotta start changing this behavior or you’re gonna be trouble.”

“Yes Momma,” Dean nodded. “I won’t do it again.”

“I hope not,” Mary smiled turning to her own breakfast. 

“Where’s mine?” John asked.

“I’m not your sever girl,” Mary answered. “Go get it yourself.”

“You brought over his,” John argued. 

“You really trust a three year old to walk across the kitchen with plate?” Mary replied.

John pushed back from the table mumbling.

“Are you mad at Daddy cuz of me?” Dean asked softly. “I don’t like it when you’re mad at each other. I can get my own breakfast from now on if you want.”

“No sweetie,” Mary replied. “It has nothing to do with you. Dad’s just being grumpy. He hasn’t had his coffee yet.” 

“Promise?” Dean asked as John sat back down with his breakfast.

“Cross my heart.”

“What do you wanna do today, buddy,” John asked, eyes looked across the table with his wife.

“I don’t know,” Dean shrugged, shoveling food into his mouth. He started to continue, but stopped to chew glancing sideways at his mom, who smiled. “What do you want to do? We can play all day if you don’t gotta work. I have Legos and Army mans we play war. And make a Army mans base and then attack. That’s what me and Jamie do sometimes.”

“That sounds fun, Dean-o,” John nodded.

“Can we play superheros after?” Dean asked quietly. “You can be Superman, but you don’t have to wear a cape.”

“Superman wears a cape though,” Mary interjected.

“Daddy doesn’t like capes,” Dean replied. “He don’t hafta wear one.”

“We’ll do whatever you want to today,” John smiled at his son. “Just me and you.”

“That sounds like a fun day,” Dean exclaimed. “We need to get started, cuz I take a nap after lunch and we got a lot to do.” 

“Alright, buddy,” John nodded. “Eat up your breakfast, and we’ll get going.”

“I have get dressed after breakfast,” Dean explained. “That’s the rules. Then play time.”

“That’s fine,” John nodded. “Do what you gotta do. We got all day.”

“Can you read me the mermaid story?” Dean asked excitedly. “I know it’s a nighttime story but I really like it. It’s my favorite.”

“Whatever you want,” John told him. 

Dean look skeptically between his parents. 

“Do I have to go to the doctor and get shots?” Dean asked.

“No.” Mary answered chuckling. “Why?”

“You’re being very nice to me,” Dean answer. “When you’re too nice I have to have a shot. I’m on to you.”

“Dean,” Mary said pressing her forehead to Dean’s. “No shots. Just fun with Dad today. You don’t have a doctor’s appointment until after your birthday.”

“Okay,” Dean nodded. “I’m gonna go get dressed and get my Army mans and Legos.”

xxx

Dean came bounding down the stairs after he got dressed, arms full of green plastic army men and a box of Legos. He placed them on the floor in front of the couch and bounced into the kitchen where his parents were talking in hushed angry voices. He really hated it when his parents fought, he couldn’t help but feel it was his fault. When his parents yelled it was usually about him, something bad that he did, he tried to be real good, but sometimes it didn’t matter. 

“You’ve made your point, Mary,” John hissed.

“Are you really trying to get out of playing with your son?” Mary rolled his eyes and shook her head. “Did you miss how excited he was that you were going to home all day? Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“I’m not,” John sighed. “I’ll play army or what the hell he wants to do, just like I said I would.”

“Don’t be mean to him,” Mary sighed. “He’s just a little boy who loves you and wants to spend time with you. Don’t be an asshole to him because you’re mad at me.”

“I got my army mans,” Dean said softly from the doorway between the kitchen and living room. “You don’t have to play if you don’t want. I can play army mans by myself.”

“I’ll be there in a second, Dean,” John sighed. “Just gotta put my plate in the sink.”

Dean slid on his stocking feet across the room and over to his mom. 

“Did you give him the coffee?” Dean whispered. “I don’t want him to be mad at me.”

“He’ll be fine,” Mary promised. “You guys go have fun. He won’t be so grumpy after.”

Dean nodded and slid back across the floor.

“Can you walk like a normal person?” John asked.

“I’m ice skating,” Dean replied. “It’s fun. Momma said she’s gonna teach me next year how to do it for real. I’m too little to do it now.” 

“That’s a great idea,” John smirked over at his wife. “Won’t let him carry a plate across the kitchen but you’ll strap knives to his feet.”

“Not knives, Daddy,” Dean corrected. “Ice skates.” He grabbed John’s hand in his and his father into the living room. “Come on, you build your army base for your mans. I’ll show you.”

xxx

“You gotta have sides on you army base,” Dean explained as John and Dean built lego forts. “Otherwise my army mans can sneak around and get your army mans. The point is to have the most army mans alive.”

“Okay,” John nodded, clearly not used to taking instruction. 

“I’ve done this before, Daddy,” Dean said. “I know the best way to win. So, I’m not gonna let you win. But I don’t want you to lose too bad.”

John couldn’t help but chuckle. “Alright. I’ll do it your way.” 

Dean nodded and continued to build the three sided fort.

“How come you don’t believe in monsters?” Dean asked, not looking up from his blocks. “You said they’re not real, but they are real. I seed the monster under my bed.”

“I don’t know, Dean,” John answered.

“Mom said that one time, Grandpa usta fight the monsters,” Dean told his father. “He would just fight them. Bigger monsters than the one under my bed. Maybe you don’t believe in monsters cuz your Daddy fixed cars. And that’s why you fixed cars and Mommy fights monsters.”

“Maybe,” John nodded. “Which one do you think you’ll want to do?”

“I want to be Batman when I’m big,” Dean said matter-of-factually. “Mom says if I keep practicing being Batman, I will be the best Batman ever.”

“Well, that’s something, I guess,” John nodded. 

“I think I’m such a good Batman, cuz you a superhero,” Dean replied.

“What?” John chuckled.

“I didn’t tell nobody,” Dean said looking up. “Not even Mom. I figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” John asked, more curious than angry.

“That’s why you stay at work late,” Dean answered, lining up his army men behind his Lego barricade. “You have to fight crime. And the only time to fight crime is at night. I figured it out awhile ago. I gonna ask Mommy, but I wasn’t sure if she knew, and I didn’t want you to be found out.”

“Dean, that’s not,” John shook his head trying to figure out how Dean had come to that conclusion.

“It’s okay,” Dean smiled. “I won’t tell. I’m good at secrets. But when I get big, can I be your sidekick, like Robin?”

“Sure,” John replied. “You can be my Robin.”

“Then when I get really big, I can take over,” Dean nodded.

“That’s how it works?” John asked.

“I’m pretty sure,” Dean answered. “I don’t really know. But that makes sense to me.”

“Me too,” John nodded. “So how does this army game work? What do we do after we build the barricade?”

“You set up the mans,” Dean explained, demonstrating with his own green men; holding one in each hand. “Then you fight.” He made gunshot noise, until one was fatally injured, screaming and falling from his hand.

Shaking his head, John started to have fun in spite of himself, just sitting on the living room floor making gun noises. Dean, it seemed never stopped talking. It didn’t really matter what the subject was, he’d talk about monsters, or army men, or sword fighting, endlessly. 

“Momma made me eat cantaloupe,” Dean said with a disgusted look on his face.

“You didn’t like it, I’m guessing?” John chuckled.

“I did not,” Dean shook his head. “It was really gross. Have you eated it?”

“Not in a long time,” John answered. “You have to eat fruit though, it’s good for you, makes you grow up big and strong.”

“I like strawberries,” Dean replied. “And apples sometime, in they have cinnamon and sugar on them. I have bananas sometimes at breakfast. Sometimes Momma gets sneaking and put fruit in the pancakes.”

“Mom’s are known for being sneaky.”

“Do you know how to sword fight?” Dean asked. 

“I do not,” John answered.

“Oh,” Dean said sounding disappointed. The he whispered. “I can teach you. It’s good for fighting crime.”

“I would like that,” John said.

“This is really fun,” Dean said. “I happy you stayed home from work today.”

“Me too, Dean,” John replied. 

“You wanna play a new game?” Dean asked. “You pick. We can play sword fights, but usually I do that after nap time, cuz I gots lots of energy. That’s what Momma says.”

“You want me to read you that book?” John asked.

“And color?” Dean asked. “We can read the story and then I have a mermaid coloring book that goes with it. I found it at the store one time.”

“Alright, you go get your stuff,” John instructed. He watched the boy run up the stairs; then sauntered into the kitchen. 

“I’m going to give you some advice,” Mary said from the table where she was reading her book. “Wear that boy out. Just run him. Make him fall asleep in his sandwich at lunch or he won’t take a nap and he’ll be a pain in the ass all afternoon.”

“He wants to read a book,” John shrugged. 

“Read it after lunch,” Mary suggested. “So he falls asleep. I do this everyday. You gotta trust me. If you mention playing in the snow, he’ll freak. He loves it.”

“I’m just going to do what he wants to do,” John shrugged.

“Then you can deal with cranky pants at 4:30 because he didn’t take a nap,” Mary replied. “Do what you want, but you’re not around enough to know how he works. He hates naps. You sit and color for an hour, give him a sandwich then send him upstairs for a nap, the next thing you know, the bathroom is flooded because he wasn’t tired. But what do I know, I only do it everyday.”

“Mary,” John sighed. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to know all this stuff without me telling you,” Mary answered. “But you’re working all the time. So you don’t know.”

“We need--”

“Yeah, I know,” Mary nodded. “And it’s gonna be harder with two of ‘em, but doesn’t mean you can’t take a weekend day and hang out with your son.”

“You make it sound like I hate the kid,” John accused. “That I’m purposefully not coming home.”

“ _Are_ you?” Mary asked.

“No,” John said seriously. “I’m trying to make everything better. I’m trying to make it easier. Ricky knows about the new baby, we’re working it out so I can have some time off when it comes. I’m doing my best here.”

“I know,” Mary sighed. “I know, but it just seems like you’re doing it on purpose.”

“How about we talk this out tonight,” John suggested. “Just put it on ice until Dean goes to bed and we’ll talk it out.”

“Yeah,”’ Mary nodded. “I think we need that. Just take him outside. Cleaning up toilet water once this week was enough.”

“I’ll ask Dean what he wants to do.”

“If you mention playing in the snow,” Mary said. “He’ll pee himself with excitement. It’s his favorite thing in the world right now. Tell him you want to build a snow fort. We built a snowman yesterday, then it got too cold for mom, so we had to come back inside.”

“I can build a good snow fort.”

“While you boys are doing that,” Mary said standing up. “I’m think I’m gonna go finish the Christmas shopping.”

“What about lunch?” John asked, panicked.

“I’m sure you can handle making a three year old a PB and J,” Mary laughed. “Jelly on both sides of the bread, cut off the crusts, cut it diagonally or he won’t eat it. If you ask, he’ll help. He likes helping.”

Mary made her way around the table and pressed her head into John’s chest. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “I’ll do better.”

“I know you will,” Mary answered, leaning back so they could kiss.

“Gross,” a tiny voice said from behind them. “That’s how you get cooties.”

“How do you know about cooties?” Mary laughed.

“Elizabeth,” Dean said seriously. “Well, Jamie told me about them, but then Elizabeth tried to give them to me at her tea party. I do not like her. She is very mean and she makes me wear feathers and have tea parties. And it’s not even real tea! It’s just air. I do not like tea parties. And then Jamie said if I kept playing with her I gonna get cooties and then he would get them, like when we had the chicken pox at the same time. I don’t want that to happen, because then he won’t be my friend no more.”

“I don’t think that’s how cooties work, Dean,” John chuckled. 

“Yes it is,” Dean said confidently. “I knowed things, Daddy.”

“Alright then,” John nodded. “What are we doing now?”

“You forgetted? It’s been only one minute,” Dean huffed holding up his story book. “You’re reading me a story.”

“I heard that you wanted a snow fort,” John offered. 

Dean’s eyes grew in excitement, flicking between his parents, before he started to nod ecstatically.

“How about we do that?” John suggested. “And I’ll read to you after lunch before you take your nap?”

Dean kept nodding. He dropped his book and coloring book and dashed across the room to the closet where the coats were.

“Dean,” Mary sighed, letting go of John to pick up the books off the floor. “At least he didn’t have crayons.”

xxx

The first snowball was just a handful of snow hitting John in the leg, followed by high pitched giggles. John continued was he was doing, building up the sides of the fort that Dean wanted so badly. The second snowball was more ice than snow. It wasn’t thrown hard enough to hurt, but it was enough to make John turn and look at the three year old hiding behind the big tree in the front yard laughing hysterically.

“What’s so funny?” John asked. 

Dean shook his head the best he could all bundled up in his snowsuit, hat and scarf, his mitten covered hands forming another snowball. 

“I snowballed you,” Dean giggled. 

John went over to where Dean was hiding behind the tree and scooped him up. “You think it’s funny to throw snowballs at you dad?”

“Yeah,” Dean giggled. “It’s really funny.”

“You wanna learn how to make a really good snowball?” John asked. “I can teach you have to make a better one, and maybe we can hit Mommy with them when she gets back.”

“That’s really mean, Daddy,” Dean said seriously. “You don’t hit Momma with things, she doesn’t like it.”

“Okay,” John nodded placing Dean back down on the ground. “You still want to learn how to make a proper snowball?”

Dean nodded excitedly. “Yay, you teach me snowballs.” 

John crouched down in the snow as Dean planted himself sitting cross legged watching. John showed him how to pack the ball nice and tight so that it flew better and longer than the handfuls of snow Dean had been throwing.

“You teach me how to throw it?” Dean asked. “I want to throw good.”

“Yeah,” John smiled. “I’ll teach you to throw. You want to learn with a real ball?”

“Umm...” Dean said, his face scrunched in thought. “I think so.”

“Come with me to the shed,” John instructed. “Can’t leave you in the front yard with no one watching.”

The two of them made their way to the back yard; Dean waddling in his snowsuit in John’s shadow. Dean stood in the doorway while John dug around in the shed for baseball gloves he hadn’t used in a long time. He wasn’t sure if they had one small enough for Dean, not that one would really fit over his mittens anyway, but he was pretty sure they had a baseball in there somewhere. 

John climbed back out of the shed and was hit with another snowball, this time in the chest, followed by more hysterical giggles.

“I do it good that time,” Dean asked. “I maked it like you said.”

“Yeah,” John nodded. “You did good.” John extended his hand for Dean to take and lead him back to the front yard. “You know how to throw a ball, Dean?” 

Dean shook his head. “No one teached me that.”

“Probably be easier without mittens on,” John said. 

“I can’t take them off my fingers will fall off!” Dean exclaimed. “Momma said.” 

“We’ll work around it kiddo,” John nodded. 

He kneeled in the snow and handed Dean the ball; showing him how to hold it. 

“You want to pull it back behind your ear,” John explained. “Then you step forward with your left foot and throw it like you did with the snow ball.”

Dean nodded and tried what John told him: stepping very exaggeratedly and swinging his arm as hard as he could. The ball didn’t travel very far, but Dean was pretty excited about it.

“I do it right?” Dean asked looking up to his dad.

“Yeah,” John smiled. “You did it right.” 

“Can I do it again?” Dean asked. 

John nodded and Dean chased after the ball, throwing back toward John and chasing after it. John leaned back, watching Dean run back and forth in the snow chasing the baseball. 

This must have been what Mary was talking about. This was what he was missing out on.

xxx

Outside in the snow, John built Dean a nice big snow fort that Dean could climb into and play in. Dean squealed in excitement running around it. 

“This is the best day, Daddy,” Dean laughed as John chased him. “You should stay home from work more often.”

“Yeah,” John answered. “I think you’re right.”

“I’m kinda hungry,” Dean yawned.“When is Momma coming back?”

“I can make you lunch, buddy,” John replied.

John had been sitting leaned back against the tree, just watching Dean run back and forth across the yard. He’d teach Dean to play catch when it started to get warmer, but Dean seemed quite content just throwing and chasing. 

Dean stood in front of his father with a very skeptical look on his face. “Have you ever made a lunch before?”

“I can make a sandwich, Dean,” John answered pushing himself up. “But if you’re worried about it, you can help.”

Dean spun on heels and ran back toward the house. John chuckled as he followed. Dean was struggling out his snowsuit when John got inside.

“Momma never lets me help,” Dean explained. “I always ask and she’s ‘No, Dean, I’ll do it.’ I want to help. I can get all the stuff out of the refrigerator.”

“You do that,” John nodded, watching as Dean tripped over his feet trying to get his boots off. “Do you want help getting out of that?”

“No,” Dean mumbled. “I can do it.”

John went into the kitchen and waited. It took a couple minutes but Dean made his way into the kitchen, pushing his step stool from the downstairs bathroom so he could reach the counters. 

“You gotta tell me where the sandwich stuff is,” John said. “Because I don’t know.”

Dean nodded and took to the task. He slid the step stool around the kitchen collecting peanut butter out of the cupboard and jelly from the fridge. He pushed John out of the way so he get the loaf of bread from the breadbox behind him. 

“I’m not allowed to play with knives,” Dean said pointing to the silverware drawer.

“Okay,” John nodded. “I think I can do it from here, why don’t you go sit at the table I’ll be right there.”

“Cut it in a triangle,” Dean said hopping down from his step stool. “And no crusties!” He pushed his stool back out of the room. 

The two shared their sandwiches at the table, Dean babbling with his mouthful. 

“I’m gonna teach you how to fight monsters after nap time,” Dean announced. “Since you teached me how to throw a ball.”

“Alright,” John nodded. “Just chew your food first.”

“Oh yeah,” Dean nodded as he swallowed. “I’m gonna let you use my sword to fight them monster. Not real monsters, just pretend monsters. Real monsters only come out at night.”

“Good to know.”

Dean yawned as he tried to finish his sandwich, but looked as if he was about the fall asleep right in his plate.

“You ready for that book now?” John smirked. 

Dean nodded, eyelids clearly heavy. “Yes please.”

John picked Dean up off the chair and grabbed his book off the table where Mary had but it after Dean threw it on the floor to put on his snowsuit.

“I have my nap upstairs,” Dean explained as John situated them on the sofa. “Momma doesn’t let me sleep on the couch.” 

“Well,” John explained. “Mom’s not home. So we’re napping on the couch.”

xxx

When Mary came home, the downstairs was filled with the soft snoring she recognized as John’s. She walked into the living room to find Dean snuggled against John’s chest, both her boys sound asleep. She pulled the blanket from the back of the recliner and placed it over them. Leaving them to sleep while she snuck in Christmas presents.


	3. Chapter 3

When Dean woke up, Mary was sitting in the recliner across the room, reading her book. He blinked a few times and looked up to see his dad still sound asleep.

“You have fun with Dad this morning, sweetheart?” Mary asked softly.

“Yeah,” Dean yawned. “We made a fort and I learned to throw baseballs. I gonna teach him sword fights when he wakes up.”

“If you go clean up your snowsuit mess in the doorway, and your army man mess, I’ll get you a snack,” Mary smiled. “If you’re hungry.”

“I’m always hungry,” Dean answered. 

He slid off the couch carefully, to not wake his father and went over to the doorway to put away his snow stuff. His dad had installed a special rod in the closet for all of Dean’s coats, so he could put his own clothes away instead of relying on Mary or John do to if for him. Dean had a very loud “No I can do it!” stage six months earlier. It was easier to just give in and let him hang up his our coat than fight with him until he cried. 

He crawled into the living room on his hands and knees and started to put his army men into the plastic bag he carried them in and the legos in his box, when John woke up.

“Dean!” John half yelled sitting up quickly. 

“I’m right here,” Dean replied as he continued to pick up. “I’m picking up my mess so I can have pie.”

“Mom’s home then,” John said, swinging his legs off the couch. 

“Mmhmm,” Dean nodded. “After pie, I’m gonna teach you how to fight monsters. I think you’ll be really good at it. Then maybe, we can check under my bed and if the real monster is there, you can get rid of it for real.” 

“Whatever you wanna do, kiddo.”

Dean nodded and picked up the box and his bag and waddled up the stairs to put them in his toybox. 

 

Dean and John sat next to each other at the table while Dean stuffed his face. He turned to his father and offered him a spoonful. 

“You want some?” he asked, mouthful of half chewed food. 

“Chew,” John instructed. “Then ask again. It’s really not that hard to remember, Dean. No one wants to see the food in your mouth.”

“After you eat you’re sitting in timeout,” Mary sighed, rolled her eyes and shaking her head at John.

“What?!” Dean whined. “I didn’t do nothing.”

“Did Dad tell you to chew with your mouth closed at lunch?” Mary asked. Dean nodded sheepishly. “And what did I tell you at breakfast?” 

Dean fell back in the chair and pushed his pie away. He crossed his arms across his chest and let his bottom lip stick out. 

“Not fair,” he mumbled. “You’re being mean.”

“No,” Mary explained, kneeling down next to him. “What happens when Mom or Dad tells you to do something and you don’t do it?”

“I go to timeout,” Dean mumbled.

“Well,” Mary shrugged forcing Dean to look at her. “Maybe you’ll stop talking with your mouth full.”

“I don’t like timeout,” Dean pouted, tears running down his face.

“No one does,” Mary said. “That’s why it’s punishment. So finish your snack and go sit in the timeout chair for three minutes.”

“I don’t want it!” Dean yelled jumping down from his chair and running into the living room. He sat down in the corner, facing the wall next to the timeout chair out of protest. 

“Necessary?” John asked, not to undermine her but figure out her dealing with Dean process.

“Very,” Mary nodded. “He’s usually really well behaved, but when he doesn’t listen you gotta be tough. That’s what the books say and Karen. I don’t want him to think he can run all over us. And actually, when it comes to tantrums, that was pretty mild. He didn’t throw anything or push the plate on the ground like he usually does.”

“Little bit of a handful,” John nodded. “He doesn’t really stop talking I noticed.”

“No,” Mary laughed. “I asked him one question about Batman the other day, and he just kept talking for, like, two hours. I don’t even know where he learned any of it.”

“Maybe we could get him some of the comics for Christmas,” John suggested. “He’s starting to read, might be good for him.”

“If you’re into replacing Samantha the Mermaid with reading Batman comics at bedtime.”

“I’m up for never reading that ridiculous mermaid story ever again,” John chuckled. “I will read him a hundred Batman comics if I never have to see that book again. How can someone re-write the little mermaid into something so ridiculous? He has hundreds of books up there.”

“He likes it,” Mary smiled. “But he’ll grow out of it, eventually, find something new. He doesn’t have the longest attention span. He’ll pick a new one soon enough. I’m going to go get him before he starts yelling that we forgot about him.”

Dean was curled into a ball, as small as he could get in the timeout corner, still sniffling.

“Are you ready to listen?” Mary asked.

“I always listen,” Dean whimpered. 

“When you talk with you mouth full after I asked you not too so many times,” Mary explained. “That’s not listening. I know you can listen. You’ve been a good listener most of the time, it’s not very nice to talk with your mouth full.”

“I got a lot to say,” Dean huffed. 

“I know baby,” Mary smiled. “You just gotta slow down and chew first. You can talk after you swallow. It’s important, okay, that’s what big boys do, and you wanna be a big boy right?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, Momma, I wanna be a big boy. I’m not a baby no more.” 

“Then can you try harder to not talk with your mouth full?” Mary asked.

Dean nodded.

“Okay, go finish your pie,” Mary said. “And if you do it again, what’s gonna happen?”

“More time out,” Dean answered. “And early bed time.”

“That’s right,” Mary answered. “No give me hug and finish your pie so you can teach Daddy to sword fight.”

xxx

“You gotta step and stab,” Dean explained. He was once again wearing his blue and red striped towel around his neck, standing in the living room holding his plastic sword demonstrating proper technique. 

“If you stab in it’s face, it’s better. You get them in the brain and they die faster.”

“Oh,” John nodded, taking his own plastic sword and copying what Dean had done. He looked over the little boy’s head to see Mary holding back giggles with a disposable camera. 

“Don’t even think about it, Mary,” John shook his head.

“It’s cute,” Mary argued. “Don’t you want to remember the day you learned to fight monsters forever?”

John shook his head quickly and looked down at Dean smiling at him.

“It would be much better if you had a cape,” Dean suggested. “Then the monsters know your a good guy and stay away.”

“If they stay away, what’s the point in learning how to fight them?” John asked.

“Well, umm,” Dean replied squinching his face. “Good guys just wear capes, Daddy. You’re not aposta question it.”

“Fair enough,” John nodded. “Still not wearing a cape. What’s the next thing we gotta do?”

“You just,” Dean pulled his arm back and thrust it forward again, jumping around in a little circle while he did so. “Stab. Get it for all the directions so it can’t bite you. That’s the most important. You don’t want to get eated.”

“It really is, John,” Mary giggled. “Getting eaten by the monster is the worst. Dean’s been very good at making sure I don’t get eaten by monsters. It would be very amazing if my husband could do the same thing.”

“You just can’t be better than me,” Dean added. “Cuz I’m the hero and you’re the side kick in the monster business.”

“Right,” John replied, rolling his eyes.

Mary couldn’t hold back any longer, a loud half snorting laugh exploded from her as she snapped a couple more pictures.

“You think it’s so funny, you do it,” John said, offering Mary the sword. 

“Momma’s an expert,” Dean said. “She’s very good at sword fights. One time we had a sword fight together. But I was a pirate that time. It’s your turn to learn. You said you wanted to.”

“I do, Dean,” John nodded. “I really do. But don’t you think it’s a little bit silly?”

“No,” Dean said shaking his head. “Monsters are serious. There is one under my bed and you need to learn to take care of it so it doesn’t eat me, or worse eat Momma. I don’t know how long teddy bears can keep it away.”

“Dean,” John sighed. “There’s no…”

“Don’t,” Mary interrupted. “Can I talk to you in the kitchen for a second.”

Mary grabbed his arm and pulled him off. “Keep fighting monsters, kiddo. We’ll be right back.”

Dean nodded, smiling. He started to jump around a stab the air again, making sound effects to match.

“I thought we decided to not tell him it’s not real,” Mary whispered. “Just let him work it out himself.”

“You decided,” John answered. “I still think it’s stupid to give in to a three year old with an overactive imagination.”

“I get that you’re an adult,” Mary said trying to keep her voice even. “I get that you don’t like looking ridiculous, but just do it. Hearing Dean laugh should be enough to make it okay. That’s your little boy. He loves you, and he wants to teach you something. You taught him how to throw a ball today right? He wants to teach you something he thinks is equally as important. Just give in. I’m not going to stop being a bitch about it.”

“Mary,” John sighed. “You don’t…”

“I’ll put the camera away,” Mary interrupted. “I just want you to have a good relationship. I want you two to get along and I want him to know that he can come to you with his problems. I mean, yeah, right now it’s something stupid, but in three years there could be a kid being mean to him at school or he could be struggling with his homework. What if he doesn’t want to come to you then because he’s afraid you’ll just brush it off as not important?”

“That’s not how it’s gonna be,” John shook his head.

“You got a time machine?” Mary spat. “Cuz if you don’t you don’t know a damn thing. So go fight monsters. If you just don’t want to, after telling that boy all day that you’ll do whatever he wants, well, John, the only way I can take it is that you just don’t care, or only care when it’s convenient. And I honestly don’t know which one is worse.”

“I’ll do it,” John mumbled. “It doesn’t make it less stupid. It’s obnoxious.”

“Yeah,” Mary shrugged. “So is wearing an eyepatch and holding a teddy bear hostage under a laundry basket. But I did it. Because it made my little boy smile.” 

“I bet you were a cute pirate,” John smirked.

“I’m mad at you,” Mary said, staring cold at her husband. “Go fight monsters.”

“If this one’s a girl,” John said stepping close and placing his hand on her stomach. “I’m not wearing feather boas or pearl necklaces. That’s where I’m drawing the line.”

“You’re afraid of cooties too?” Mary smirked. 

“Nah,”John smiled leaning in to kiss her.

“Stop, I’m mad at you,” Mary protested. “And Dean’s waiting. Go.”

 

“You’re not doin’ it right, Daddy,” Dean said seriously. “You’re not doing it like I do it.”

“What I am doing wrong?” John rolled his eyes. He was going to do this, but no one told him he had to enjoy it, and being bossed around by a toddler wasn’t exactly high on his list of things he considered fun.

“You’re not stabbing hard enough,” Dean explained. “If you do it to real monsters the way you’re doing the sword will just bounce off. You gotta stab!” Dean demonstrated by thrusting his plastic sword as hard as he could at the air in front of him. 

John tried again, putting a little bit more effort behind it as he swung the sword back and forth where Dean told him the big invisible monster was. 

“You don’t want to play do you?” Dean asked sadly. “You think it’s dumb?”

“No, Dean,” John shook his head. 

“If you don’t want to play with me, that’s okay,” Dean pouted. “I’ll play by myself.”

“No, buddy,” John picked Dean up off the floor. “That’s not it at all. Dad just hasn’t fought monsters before. It’s different. I’m not an expert like you are.”

“I really want you to play monsters,” Dean pouted. “But if you don’t like we can play something else. We can play Chutes and Ladders.”

“I think I’m just having a hard time seeing the monsters,” John confessed.

“They’re invisible to grown ups,” Dean explained.

“How about… how about if you and me build one,” John suggested. 

“Build a monster?”

“Yeah,” John nodded. “We can use the sofa and stuff cover it will all sorts of blankets and stuff. Make it real. Then I think that I’ll be able to fight it better.”

“That’s gonna make a big mess,” Dean warned. “Momma doesn’t like it when I do that. She said to me ‘Dean do not make big messes.’ I’m not very good at cleaning them up. Only little messes. And sometimes I’m not very good at that either. Momma has to telled five times to clean it up, and then I have to have time out from bad listening.”

“Let me worry about Mom,” John smiled, lowering Dean back to the ground. “You go get some blankets out of the linen closet upstairs. I’ll make sure you don’t get in trouble.” 

Dean nodded and ran up the stairs as fast as his little legs could carry him.

“What am not worrying about?” Mary asked as she came down the stairs. “Because Dean just looked at me and said: ‘Don’t be mad, Daddy says it’s okay.’ And climbed into the linen closet.”

“We’re building a monster,” John shrugged. “I’ll take care of the clean up.”

“You can do that laundry because I’m not rewashing all our sheets,” Mary rolled her eyes.

“They won’t be dirty,” John replied. “We’re just going to turn the couch into a monster so I can fight it.”

“Dean can stay inside all day and get covered in dirt,” Mary sighed. “You get to rewash all the sheets when you’re done.” 

“Fine,” John nodded. “I know how to work the washer. I think I can handle it.”

“When you flood the basement, you get to clean that up too,” Mary smirked. 

“You have such little faith in me,” John shook his head as he heard Dean start to come back down the stairs.

“No,” Mary smiled as she walked away to start dinner. “I’m just expecting nothing better than last time you tried to do laundry. We almost lost so of my parents photo albums from the water damage. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I’m capable of learning from my mistakes,” John chuckled. “I’ll use the cap to add soap this time.”

Mary chuckled and walked away, shaking her head.

“Okay,” Dean called from behind him. “I got all the blankets I can reach. I don’t know if it’s enough.”

“That’ll work, Deano,” John smiled taking the blankets. “Why don’t you push on of the chairs from the dining room in here.”

“No!” Mary called. “Do not let him do that. He’ll scratch up the floor.”

“Momma said no,” Dean said swaying back and forth and swinging his arms. “She’s the boss.”

John smiled and patted Dean on the head as he went to get the chair himself. “You’re smarter than you look little buddy.”

“Don’t let him climb on anything,” Mary said. “I don’t feel like to the hospital cuz he cut his face open jumping off the couch.”

“I won’t let him hurt himself,” John said defensively. “We’ll be good. Feet on the floor.”

“I mean it,” Mary said. “I get what you’re trying to do, but don’t break him. It’s not easy to get blood out of the carpet.”

“That was one time,” John sighed. “And it wasn’t my fault.”

“You let a two year old slide face first down the stairs, John,” Mary rolled her eyes. “He needed stitches. Don’t break my kid.”

“Jesus, I’m not neglectful,” John argued. “Do you want me to play with him or not? Because you’re being kind of crazy right now.”

“Do whatever you think is best,” Mary sighed. “Just don’t break him.”

“Alright,” John shook his head and he picked up the kitchen chair and walked back into the living room.

Dean was standing on the couch trying to put a sheet over the back of it. John placed the chair in front of the couch and grabbed Dean around the waist, placing him on the floor.

“I’ll do that part, kiddo,” John said softly. “How about you put a blanket over the chair.”

Dean nodded and unfolded new blanket. John couldn’t help but chuckle at how funny it looked to see the look boy holding a blanket twice his size and trying to drape it over the chair.

“This doesn’t look like a monster,” Dean decided after seeing what John decided was the final product. “It’s needs a face.”

“What would be a good face for it?” John asked. 

“I don’t know,” Dean shrugged. “I think I pretend it has a face, if you can pretend it’s a monster. We’ll make it work. If it makes you fight the monsters, it’s good for me. I just gotta know which side is the face.”

“I think the chair,” John said. “The seat of the chair is kind of like a nose. You think?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded and smiled. “I like it. Let kill it.”

John laughed and shook his head. “A little over eager there buddy?”

“No,” Dean replied, looking up at his dad with a very serious face. “That’s what you do to monster. It’s the only way. Then they don’t eat nobody.”

“Alright,” John chuckled. “Show me how it’s done.”

Dean nodded and picked his sword up off the floor. He aimed it at the space between the kitchen chair and the sofa and ran full force at it.

“Kapow!” Dean shouted as he stabbed it repeatedly, running around that couch to stab every piece of it. 

“Careful, little dude, you’re gonna hurt yourself,” John said grabbing Dean around the waist and picking him up. “Slow down. You’re not supposed to run in the house anyway.”

“Sorry,” Dean mumbled. “I got excited.”

John placed Dean back on the ground.

“You do it now,” Dean demanded. “You can do it real good now.”

John took a deep breath and bent his knees, he felt completely ridiculous. There were millions of other things he should be doing on his day off: the sink in the upstairs bathroom was leaky, the door to the basement squeaked, he had to start taking the furniture out of the guest bedroom to start the new nursery, the car needed a tune up, his list of things that needed to be done was longer than his arm. But standing next to him bouncing on the balls of his feet was a little boy with his smile looking back up at him. He leaned forward and stabbed that the couch.

“Yeah!” Dean giggled. “Just like that. Much better. I knew you could do it Daddy. You just need a little more practice and then… and then maybe we check out under my bed.”

“Whatever you want kiddo,” John nodded. “I’ll get rid of them.”

“Keep practicing,” Dean instructed. “I gotta tell Mom you did it.” 

John smiled as he watch Dean take off toward the kitchen.

“Don’t… don’t run Dean,” John sighed. 

 

“How’s it goin’ in there,” Mary asked looking up from peeling potatoes. “Sounds like quite the situation.”

“It’s good,” Dean answered. “Daddy’s getting the hang of it. Can I help?”

Mary had tried to involve Dean in cooking dinner. He was always looking to help with something, and even if he was just stirring vegetables before she turned the stove on or sprinkling salt and pepper over things, letting him help a little bit seemed to make him happier than anything else.

“Not right now, sweetheart,” Mary smiled. “Just keep playing with Daddy.”

“Okay,” Dean nodded. “I just wanted to tell you that Daddy’s doing real good now, and you don’t have to yell at him no more.”

“I wasn’t yelling at him,” Mary replied.

“I’m three, Momma,” Dean said seriously. “I know yelling, but Daddy’s better now. So you don’t have to be mad at him no more. I don’t want Daddy to go to timeout, because you have sit in time out of one minute for how old you are and Daddy will be in timeout forever. And that’s not fair.”

“Alright,” Mary smiled. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

Dean nodded and turned on his heels, sprinting back into the living room.

“Don’t run!” Mary sighed shaking her head. 

When Dean crossed the threshold to the living room two big strong arms grabbed him and tossed him over the back of the couch. The high pitched scream that left Dean has he flew through the air caused Mary to abandon dinner and fly into the living room to see what the hell could have just happened.

Dean lay on his back on the sofa, giggling and kicking at John.

“No fair!” Dean laughed. “I wasn’t ready.”

“You can never be ready for the tickle monster,” John replied. 

“You’re not a monster,” Dean squealed trying to squirm off the couch. “Monsters are bad guys.”

“Not all of ‘em,” John said letting up so Dean to breathe again. “Some of them are good guys.”

“You think so?” Dean asked pushing himself up. “You think the monster under my bed is a good monster?”

“Maybe it’s protecting you,” John suggested. “Maybe it doesn’t want to eat you, just wants to make sure you’re okay.” 

“I never thinked of that,” Dean said thoughtfully nodded. “But Jamie said there was only bad monsters, and they eat you.”

“Jamie’s only four,” John replied. “You think he’s met all the different monsters?”

Dean shook his head. “But you don’t believe in them. You said so.”

“Well, buddy,” John said pulling Dean close to his side. “Maybe you taught me something today. But if they are real, they can’t all be bad.”

“I guess so,” Dean nodded. “I can go with that I think. So long as there is no tickle monster under there. That was… that was crazy.”

“You didn’t like the tickle monster?” John asked as he started to tickle Dean again as the little boy squealed.

In the doorway Mary shook her head and chuckled. That was exactly what she was hoping for when pressured John into calling out of work that morning. She held her hands up to her face and mimed taking a picture, wishing she hadn’t put away the disposable, because that right there in front of her, were the types of moments she wanted to remember forever.


End file.
